


Steed

by doomcanary



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Bondage, Kink, M/M, Unfulfilled Desires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1967271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomcanary/pseuds/doomcanary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Perhaps in some future life Aramis will be such a horse; perhaps he will be ridden by such a man as rides this one.</i>
</p><p>Dedicated to breathtaken, who was trying to figure out a Musketeers BDSM-verse and gave me a head full of possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steed

They are riding down a green and tree-lined road west of the city; beside him Athos's tall black horse arches its neck and munches on the bit, protesting. Athos indulges the beast with a looser rein and it drops its head to give a resonant snort.

Aramis watches the light shift on the gloss of its coat, the tiny wrinkle like a smile at the corner of its soft mouth where the bit is held just far enough back to keep it out of the animal's teeth. He sees strength and power, all bent to service; he sees contentment in the simple, honest work of carrying a Musketeer. He knows the courage in the beast, a horse that will gallop towards gunfire.

Perhaps in some future life Aramis will be such a horse; perhaps he will be ridden by such a man as rides this one. He will have a simple life, no heartaches and losses. His master will have courage and honour, and Aramis will bear him into battle with swift feet. He will have simple orders clearly given. And he will obey. 

He endeavours to be such a master to Darling, but feels always that he lacks that final strength; he is too fond of her, too soft. Always he over-indulges his feelings. He has dragged his brothers into a fine pickle, this last year. 

His reverie lasts until they ride back into the yard of the garrison, a sparring session scattering before their mounts. Above them all on the balcony stands Treville, looking down at his kingdom. He meets Aramis's eye, and Aramis is struck once again by the quiet steel in the man; no ostentatious fop, no romancer of women, but within him are an implacable will and an honour that runs to the cores of his very bones. What Treville does is what is right.

Treville keeps him back a moment after he as debriefed them, and speaks quietly to Aramis.

"Tonight," he says.

Aamis shivers, and thinks of the horse of wood that stands in Treville's rooms; he knows its chill against his stomach and the warmth of the fire on his thighs, feels again the embrace of well-worn rope at ankle and wrist. But most of all he knows that vast, solid will, enveloping his being even as his body is encompassed from inside.

Treville simply looks at the play of emotions in his eyes, and nods. Aramis has no need to reply.

Tonight he will have simple orders, clearly given. And he will obey.


End file.
